Sunday, December 13, 2009

Levels of brightness

I actually had this conversation this weekend with a close friend who is going through a divorce:

Her: "We're dividing up weekends so they stay with him one night and all the next day and me the other night and day."
Me: "Ah. So, when they stay with him on Sunday nights do they then just stay with your in-laws all day on Monday while you work?"
Her: "Alina...they come to your house on Mondays."
Me: "Oh yeah!"

I laughed about it on the way home and said, "boy I am not very bright, huh?"
Pat said, "You're bright... just bright more like a strobe light."
I laughed and agreed.
But I'd say I'm bright more like a motion detector.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Blogger doesn't know "pulmonology" is a word

I know I can't stop talking about the things my boys like to eat, and this post will be no different. Fair warning.

Today was a rough one. No lie. We spent the morning at the Pediatric Pulmonology office to have them checked out regarding their long-term "smokers" coughs. There were two things that made this visit difficult--not even counting the bitterly cold weather we had today. 1. The appointment was 2 1/2 hours long. and 2. NO SNACKS IN THE EXAM ROOMS (this was for the safety of food allergic patients--something I totally respect.)! Now the second difficulty wouldn't have been so bad had I known beforehand, but I didn't so I'd loaded a small tote up to the gills with snacks--and in that tiny room I had no way to hide them. No way at all. And I learned, in no uncertain terms, that the most effective way to torture a 17 month old, is simply to refuse him access to snacks he can see...and see again...and then see SOME MORE!

At one point I was holding a bag of snacks out of toddler-reach, holding the door closed with one foot so Coen couldn't escape the exam room, and signing consent forms while explaining to my tearful 3 year old why we were actually going to get the H1N1 booster shot I'd promised him that morning we weren't going to get.

After the appointment I took the boys down to the cafeteria for a well deserved lunch. Coen's little onsie flaps were unsnapped and outside of his pants, his face was streaked with tears and he was doing that sad little huff that babies do when they've been denied snacks that they can see. People felt sorry for us and were kind. Thank goodness for kind people.

I got the boy's the lunch special: beef stroganoff with mushrooms and then loaded a to-go container from the salad bar. Fintan kept saying things like "Yummy, tomatoes!" and "Oooh, fruit! Can we get more olives than that?" Our helpful helpers got a big kick out of his excitement over the salad bar selection. Then I let Fintan pick out his "special treat" for being such a good boy for the doctor. He picked out a gigantic tub of chocolate pudding with cookie crumbles and whipped cream on top. The boys ate a great lunch. They demolished the beef stroganoff and made short work of the salad bar selection (Mommy unfortunately didn't get enough hard-boiled eggs to suit their taste). Finally it was time for dessert. Fintan got the chocolate pudding and Coen got the coveted 100 calorie pack of cookies he'd so desperately wanted in the exam room. Fintan loved his pudding, but he made me laugh out loud when he paused between spoonfuls of chocolaty goodness to pick up, and eat, the three remaining slices of cucumber from his salad dish.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

A kale chip off the ol' block.

"What is this?" Fintan asked me this morning, his mouth full.
"They're called 'kale chips'," I answered.
"Mmmm, I like kale chips."
Through the monitor I heard Coen crying again, adamantly refusing his nap, and I gave up. I brought him down and asked them, "Would you guys like to go to the indoor playground today?"
"Yes!" Fintan said. "But first I want some more kale chips." He held out his empty bowl.
"That's all we had, Sweetie, they're all gone."
"But I want more!"
Well, would you rather go out to the greenhouse and harvest more kale for chips or go to the indoor playground?"
His pause was long and thoughtful as rain sheeted against the windows.
"Go to the indoor playground."

This evening I put on a hat, a puffy coat, wellies and a headlamp and went out into the freezing rain to harvest kale so Fintan could have kale chips in his preschool lunch tomorrow. He and his daddy watched me from the window while I worked and Fintan said, "I wish I was big so I could put on a headlamp and a big coat and go out all by myself when it's dark and harvest greens."

Gosh, I love that little boy.